


The Hangover

by ranereins (shadowintime)



Category: Chaos (2011)
Genre: Coda, Humor, M/M, Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-06
Updated: 2011-06-06
Packaged: 2017-10-20 04:38:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/208821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowintime/pseuds/ranereins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A few drinks after a stressful mission turn into a crazy weekend that no one remembers but they'll definitely never forget. Coda to 1x06 - Eaten by Wolves</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Hangover

**Author's Note:**

> This is a coda to 1x06 - Eaten by Wolves. Yet another crazy... no, insane... idea that came to me while watching the ep. ^_^ And yes, it's exactly what you might think it is, given the title. Beta'd by sgflutegirl. I don't know what I'd do without her!

Rick groaned as he began to wake, his head already throbbing and the light searing into his brain… and he hadn’t even opened his eyes yet.

“Morning sunshine,” Billy said from somewhere very nearby. His voice sounded off, raspy or hoarse maybe, but it was definitely him. “Much as I like the cuddling, the drooling on my stomach really ruins the mood.”

“Huh?” Rick asked blankly, cracking his eyes open cautiously. The first sight he laid eyes on was that of Michael sunk down in a large horse-shaped pool float, arms and legs sprawled, head hanging over the side near the neck of the horse with his mouth wide open. A cowboy hat lay upside down beneath his head. Rick’s brow furrowed at the odd sight, but he dismissed it for later consideration.

Rick turned his head and found himself staring at smooth skin. He looked up to find Billy smiling back at him. “Wha- what happened?”

Billy threw his head back and laughed. “I’m not rightly sure, must have been a really wild night.”

“I…” Rick started to move and found himself in an awkward position. His chin rested just below Billy’s belly button and his arms were draped over Billy’s thighs… “where are your pants?”

Billy shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

“Where are my pants?”

“Again, your guess…”

Rick froze. “Is that your…?”

“It surely is.” Rick made a face and pushed off of Billy. “See, I knew this was going to happen, I knew you wouldn’t respect me in the morning.”

Rick ignored Billy’s teasing and looked around for something to cover himself with; he grabbed a comforter that was lying on the floor nearby and pulled it around himself.

“Little late for modesty, isn’t it?” Billy asked with a smirk. He stood, not bothering to even look for something to put on and surveyed the room. “Wow, we can really do some damage when we’re in the mind to.”

Rick stood and took a proper look around the room; it was completely trashed. Toilet paper was strung floor to ceiling, the big screen TV was now attached to the ceiling above the in-room hot tub, someone’s pants were in the chandelier… wait, those were his pants. And this was a hotel room, a really nice one… at least, it had been before they had trashed it. “Where are we?”

Billy nudged Michael’s leg with his foot. “Atlantic City, by the looks of it.”

“How do you know that?”

“Could be the plush room we’re currently in, or, it could be view of casinos for as far as the eye can see,” he said, pointing at the windows on the far side of the room.

Rick stared out the windows in awe. “How’d we get to Atlantic City? We were just going out for drinks!”

“I know that I often have answers for you, but this is not one of those times.” Billy kicked the horse float that Michael was laying in. “Michael, wake up, we may be in a wee bit of trouble.”

The horse float scooted a few inches and caused Michael’s body to wobble a bit, but he show no signs of waking… or life even.

Rick frowned and joined Billy by the horse float. “Why is he wearing chaps… and nothing else?” Billy gave him a ‘we’ve been over this’ look. “Right, sorry.”

“Michael?” Billy asked, nudging him again.

Rick carefully leaned over and pressed his fingers to Michael’s neck, checking for a pulse.

“Giddyup!” Michael said, suddenly coming to life.

Billy and Rick jumped, startled by his sudden outburst. “Well, at least he’s alive. Would have been a colorful death report otherwise.”

“Oww,” Michael groaned. He glared at Billy. “Thanks for your overwhelming concern.”

Billy smirked. “It’s not that I wasn’t concerned, I was just thinking that you’ve always said that you want to go out in an interesting way… what’s more interesting than you in chaps and a cowboy hat in a horse pool float in a Atlantic City hotel?”

Michael smirked. “True. Wait, we’re in Atlantic City?”

“Thank you, finally, someone with some sensible concern!”

“There’s no need to be concerned Rick… we’re just a bunch of lads having a weekend of fun after a stressful mission, we needed this!”

Rick stared at him incredulously. “We’re in an expensive Atlantic City hotel room, which we’ve trashed so we’ll have to pay damages too, and we can’t remember anything that we’ve done since we started having drinks _in Langley_ … if that’s not reason for concern, I don’t know what is!”

“I believe it’s actually considered a villa.”

“I might as well be talking to a wall,” Rick said, shaking his head and walking off.

“Oh come on Ricky boy, it’ll all work out, it always does.” Rick ignored him. “Where are ya going?”

Rick paused and looked back at them. “The bathroom,” he said and grabbed a fist full of the toilet paper dangling from the ceiling.

“He’s such a worrier.”

“He might just have cause to,” Michael said, staring after Rick. “Seems I remember that last time we were here that we were strongly encouraged not to return.”

Billy bit his lip. “Oh, I forgot about that. Perhaps we should saddle up and get out of here as soon as possible.”

Michael looked up at him. “You’re making cowboy jokes now?”

“Well, you are dressed the part.”

Michael smirked, grabbed his cowboy hat and held his hand out for Billy to help him up. Billy obliged. “You remember anything?”

“Not since eight shots in at that bar in Langley.”

Michael put his hat firmly on his head. “That’s two more shots than me.”

“Real shame, I’m sure you at the height of your cowboy kink was a sight to behold.”

“I’m sure it was.”

Rick walked out of the bathroom, his calm before the raging storm look firmly in place. “I found Casey… and our Russian brides.”

Michael and Billy arched a brow and crossed the room to the bathroom to see for themselves. “Looks like Casey had a good time.”

“That is the biggest bath I have ever seen… that’s verging on pool status.”

“Where did all the pool floats come from?” Rick asked.

In the large bath was Casey in what appeared to be some sort of [chair float that looked like something you might find in a hospital](http://www.walmart.com/ip/Spongex-Sling-Chair/14560081). Casey’s Russian bride to be had one leg draped across his legs and was mostly in the water beside him except for her head and arm which had caught on the armrest of the float, her added weight tipping them sideways and threatening to capsize them. Michael and Billy’s almost-brides were curled up together on large a float with a foam ring around the outside and mesh netting in the center, and Rick’s almost-bride was passed out on a jet ski.

“The better question is how we got that jet ski up here,” Billy said, sounding genuinely impressed.

“At least it explains why the walls and ceiling are wet… I would worry about that otherwise.”

Rick pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. “This is completely insane.”

“Casey, wake up,” Michael said. “Casey…”

Billy held his hand up. “I’ve got a better idea.” He grabbed the pool darts that lay on the sink vanity and handed a few to Michael then offered some to Rick.

Rick stared at him as if he’d lost his mind. “You want to play pool darts with Casey as the target now?”

“How many opportunities like this do you get?” Billy asked with a smile.

“I’m going to see if I can get my pants off of the chandelier,” Rick said, walking away.

“You’re loss.”

“100 points for crotch, 50 for chest and head, 25 for everywhere else, grazes don’t count.”

Billy examined the slightly weighted end of one of the pool darts. “Think this would hurt if it hit you in your privates?”

“Let’s find out.” The two took aim and began to pelt him with the pool darts.

The first dart hit Casey squarely in the chest, but did little more than cause him to jump in his sleep.

“Wow, he must really be out of it… I figured he’d start taking these things apart mid-air as soon as they got within reach.”

The second dart hit him in the stomach.

“Getting closer…”

The third grazed his leg but the fourth found purchase and Casey’s eyes flew open and he thrashed a little, trying to get hold on what had hit him. The girl slid into the water, but quickly woke up and surfaced, looking around to see what had happened.

“What the…” Casey said through gritted teeth and, in the same instant, Michael and Billy pointed to each other as means of placing the blame. “Why?”

As they looked to each other to for an explanation that wouldn’t have Casey trying to choke them to death as an outcome, Rick screamed from the next room. Seeing their chance for escape, they hurried to see what was happening.

“There’s a lizard… a giant, hissing, freaky lizard in my pants!” Rick exclaimed, pointing to where his pants now lay on the floor.

“Impossible, you’re not even wearing them,” Billy said. Something in Rick’s pants moved and he arched a brow. “Although…”

“Big. Damn. Lizard!” Rick said, taking a few steps back and continuing to point.

Michael stepped forwards and cautiously reached towards Rick’s pants. Billy noticed something stuck to Michael’s right butt cheek and pulled it off. “Oww! Damnit Billy, right when I’m about to uncover whatever is in Rick’s pants? Really?”

Billy shrugged. “Sorry. Why did you have a fake moustache stuck to your ass though?” he asked, holding up his finger which the moustache was now stuck to. Michael shot him a look. “Right, sorry.”

Michael grabbed the legs of Rick’s pants and shook them until the creature fell out. “It’s not a lizard, it’s an iguana.”

“Aww, poor guy,” Billy said, picking up the iguana. “How did you get in Rick’s pants, huh?” He turned to Rick and gave him an accusatory look. “Did you put an iguana down your pants?”

Rick held his arms out to his sides and looked offended. “I… I wouldn’t… I don’t think… I don’t know.”

Billy held the iguana protectively. “It’s alright Iggy; you won’t have to go down anyone’s pants again unless you want to.”

Casey walked out of the bathroom holding a towel around his waist and looked around. “Where are we and what happened to this place?”

“That’s the question of the year,” Michael replied. “Does appear we’re in Atlantic City though.”

“Atlantic City… we need to get out of here,” Casey said with a sense of urgency.

“Yeah.”

Casey watched Billy pet the iguana. “Why do you have an iguana?”

“Because it was in Rick’s pants.”

“Is that supposed to make any sense?”

Billy shrugged. “I think he should be our new mascot.”

“I thought Rick was our new mascot.”

“Well, he was in Rick’s pants, so I guess the title has been passed on.”

“What?”

“Never mind,” Michael said. “Priorities people.”

“Why are you wearing four wedding rings?” Billy asked.

Casey held up his hand and stared at the rings. “I… I don’t know.”

Billy looked past Casey into the bathroom where the Russian girls were. “Oh, you naughty scoundrel you. You’ve got yourself four wives.”

Casey swallowed hard. “We might need to stop off long enough for me to get four divorces before we leave.”

After some quick cleaning and straightening of the room so that they wouldn’t be billed for so many damages, some light packing of the things that they apparently bought (including the horse float, chaps and cowboy hat), four quick-y divorces and a stop at the bus stop to send the girls on their way, they were back on the road in Billy’s car, headed for Langley.

“At least we know where the fake moustaches came from,” Rick said as he looked at a photo of the four of them, plus the fake moustache guy all wearing different moustaches, that they had found whilst cleaning. “Wonder what happened to fake moustache guy?”

“I’m sure he’ll turn up.”

“Doesn’t explain how your moustache ended up on my ass though,” Michael said, staring at Rick with an amused look in the rearview mirror.

“Doesn’t it though?” Billy asked with a smirk as he offered Iggy a peanut. “What do iguanas eat?”

“True.” Michael said, ignoring Billy’s question.

“You’re not suggesting that I…” Rick trailed off, looking between the two.

“You kissed the boss’s ass, among other things,” Casey said matter-of-factly.

“You… saw?”

“I photographed, apparently.” Casey held up his phone and began to scroll through the photos of Michael, Billy and Rick.

Rick’s head fell back against the headrest and he slid down in his seat as if trying to melt from existence, his face flushing beet red.

Billy quickly pulled his cell phone out, hoping that he’d managed to take at least a few photos. “I want copies of all of those!” he told Casey. As he scrolled through his own photos, he paused on one and showed it to Michael. “I’m going to have to frame that one and hang it in my bedroom.”

Michael began to veer off of the road as he stared at the photo with a grin plastered on his face. “No one can contest that you do make a good horse Billy.”

“Ooo! There’s video!” Billy exclaimed. Michael’s yells of ‘yeehaw!’ and Rick’s ‘ride ‘em cowboy!’ could be heard.

Rick slouched impossibly further down in his seat.

Michael corrected the car and pulled his Bluetooth headset from his pocket and dialed his voicemail. The first message was from Fay, “Michael, WHAT THE HELL?! I go to meet the realtor at our house and it’s completely demolished and on fire! What did you do?! I know that you wanted to keep the house, but I never dreamed you’d be so childish as to destroy it so that it couldn’t be sold!”

Michael frowned and listened to the remaining messages. Most were from Fay with new rants, but one was from the police informing him that they needed him to come in for questioning. “So, um, we may have destroyed my house during our weekend of drunken debauchery.”

Billy tore himself away from his phone to look at Michael in shock. “Really?”

“Yeah. From the sound of Fay’s angry voicemails, we must have taken it down to the foundation.”

“Wow.”

“Yep, here’s the photos… and a video,” Casey said.

Michael pulled off onto the side of the road. Casey leaned forwards and held the phone so that everyone could see. Even Rick sat up and took interest. The video showed Michael ripping the stove’s gas line out, them running down the hall and Michael making a big show of lighting one of Fay’s fancy scented candles that he always hated. They then ran out into the yard, beers in hand and waited for the explosion, which knocked them all to the ground.

“Oh God,” Michael said, resting his head on the steering wheel.

“The good news is, it’ll likely be deemed an accident,” Casey said.

“All of my stuff though! All of my stuff was still in the house!”

“Don’t be so sure, there are also photos of us at a storage unit.” Michael perked up at this. “And you won’t be homeless either… seems you bought a new house, very nice… I had no idea your position paid so well.”

Michael’s head fell back against the steering wheel.

“You did say that you were coming into some money, so it’s not so bad,” Billy reminded him.

“The money was going to come from selling the house!”

“Oh. Did you not have insurance?”

Michael’s head rose once more. “Yeah, I did… and it was insured for a heck of a lot more than we probably would have got if the house had sold.”

“There ya go then, it all works out!” Billy said happily, returning to the photos on his phone.

Michael put the car back into drive and pulled back onto the road. “I hope so.”

Billy coughed a little and rubbed his throat. “Is there any water?” Casey handed him a bottle.

“You alright?” Michael asked, concerned. “You’ve had that cough since Atlantic City.”

“Yeah, I know… I feel like I’ve got something stuck in my throat.” He coughed again, much harder this time and then frowned. He reached inside his mouth and pulled something out, a moustache. “Oh, that is disgusting!” he said, rolling down the window and throwing it out.

“I really hope there isn’t a photo to explain that,” Rick said, sliding down in his seat again, looking queasy.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

“Everything alright with Fay and the police?” Billy asked as Michael slid back into the car.

“Yeah, they’re deeming it an accident, due in no small part to our trip to Atlantic City. Apparently, given the time that we checked into the hotel in Atlantic City, there was no way that we could have been there to sabotage the house and there are no witnesses to say otherwise… though I’m surprised given that it was three in the morning and we were making such a racket. We must have broken every speed limit from here to Atlantic City to make such good time, which turned out to be a very good thing.”

“See, it all worked out,” Billy said with a yawn.

“Thank God. Fay wanted to poke a million and one holes in my story, but once she realized that we’d get more money from the insurance, she suddenly saw things in a kinder way.”

“Casey, have you got an address to Michael’s new place so that we can take our debauched leader home?”

“Yeah… I think it’s in here somewhere.”

 

The drive wasn’t long and it turned out that it wasn’t far from the CIA.

“Very nice,” Billy said as they leaned against his car admiring the four bedroom, four and a half bath, two story modern style house. “Wish I had a place like this.”

“I’ll have to sell it, there’s no way that I can afford the mortgage on a place like this.”

“Given the current housing economy, that’s not necessarily true,” Casey said.

“Even so…”

“Mister Dorset! So glad you’re here,” a man said as he jogged towards them. “You left so quickly, I didn’t get the chance to give you and your roommates the keys!”

“Roommates?”

“Yes… you, Mister Collins and Mister Martinez,” the man said as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Wha- I already have an apartment!” Rick said.

“Not any more, I don’t think… you called your landlord and told him to… well, I’d rather not repeat aloud what you said.”

Rick’s face dropped. “Oh God.”

“Well, here are your keys,” the man said, dropping all three in Michael’s hand. “Enjoy your new house!”

Michael stared at the keys for a moment before dangling a key in front of both Billy and Rick. “Well, I guess it’s a good thing we’re roommates now, seeing as how Rick and I would both be homeless and there’s no way I could afford this place otherwise.”

“Since there’s a spare, Iggy will have his own room!” Billy said happily. “Unless Casey wants to move in too.”

“I’m quite happy with the place I’ve got and the privacy it affords me, thank you.”

“Think Higgins will spring for a perch for Iggy to stay on in the office?”

“Doubt it.”

“I’m not sure what it says about us that our mascot is an iguana that came from Rick’s pants.”


End file.
